


The Room

by scarletrobins



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Brief mention of Bruce, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, OFC is a mutant (eventually), OFC is a woman of colour, Steve cares about his friend, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, get over it, if you have a problem with that, it's 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24714478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletrobins/pseuds/scarletrobins
Summary: The Winter Soldier has always known the room. He has always known it's tiny walls and it's never ending chill. He has never expected much more, but then one day, a woman is thrown in there with him as a 'reward.'I call him Bucky, but for most of it he is the winter soldier.WARNING:This has violent themes including sexual assault and non-con/dub-con.
Relationships: Bucky Barnes/OFC, The Winter Soldier/OFC, bucky barnes/original female character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	1. The Room Where It Happens

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'd like to reiterate the warnings that I have placed in the summary as well. 
> 
> This has violent themes of sexual assault and non-con/dub-con. 
> 
> If you continue to read this and it triggers you in some way, that is your decision.

He was The Winter Soldier. Nothing more, nothing less. A tool for them to take out when needed, and put back in the metal room when not in use. 

It was a windowless room, small, barely big enough to fit the cot he slept on and just a few metres of space. Metal walls that let the cold seep through every atom in the room. A thin blanket was folded neatly at the end of his cot and there was a small shelf jutting out of the far corner where he usually dumped his uniform. 

Sleeping half-bare in the cold was like a punishment. Every time he came back, the memories were haunting and sleeping in the cold, prickling and spreading through every cell, he felt that maybe he could finally pay back his heinous deeds by punishing himself. 

Then, after a certain point, he became cold. His skin, his heart, his soul. He became the cold, and he started taking solace in the harsh cold of his room, and even abandoned using the thin blanket at night. He was cold. 

*****

He had just gotten back from a mission. There wasn't any blood on his suit, there rarely was anyway, and just as he was about to begin unbuckling his vest, the metal door was thrown open harshly. Two soldiers walked in, one with a malicious smirk on his face as he stared at the still man sat on the bed. 

Bucky's eyes were on the weeping girl held in the other man's arms. She was dressed in a rumpled grey tank top and cloth shorts in the same colour. There were bruises around her wrists and her black fluffy hair was pulled into a ponytail on the back of her head. She had dark brown eyes which were rimmed with red and spilt tears in steady streams down her cheeks. She had brown skin which looked baby smooth, and her whole body shook with her scared whimpers and sobs. 

He finally turned his gaze to the smirking soldier, and waited to hear what he had to say. 

"This is your reward, солдат (soldier)," the man said. Bucky didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue. "She is your toy, do what you want with her солдат." He finished, before motioning to the other man who shoved the girl further into the room. She fell to the floor with a cry of pain and crawled to press herself into the corner. 

The cold had her shivering and the sobbing made her shake even harder. The two soldiers slammed the door behind them and left the couple to sit with the sounds of her whimpering. 

"Can you please help me? Do you know where we are?" She pulled her face away from her arms and began trying to push her shaky legs into a standing position. 

Bucky had moved on from her sudden appearance. He unbuckled his vest and slipped it off, his wife-beater clinging tightly to all of his well-defined muscles. His metal arm shone in the light of the single fluorescent bulb in the ceiling. He'd thrown the vest onto the shelf, seeing her body flinch from the harsh sound, before laying on his back and closing his eyes. When she'd asked the questions, he only had one reply. 

"Shut up." His voice was low and quiet, a sound which made her movements cease and had her collapsing back to the floor. Her head fell back and hit the wall with a thud and she let her hands sit on her knees.   
"I haven't done anything," she said, her voice soft and almost resigned. 

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. He got up with an angry huff and stomped to her, heavy boots thudding as he grabbed the top of her tank top and angrily hauled her to her feet. She yelled out in pain and he shoved her head hard against the wall. His hand wrapped around her throat tight enough to threaten, not to kill. He stared at her with bright shining blue eyes that seemed yet... dead. 

Her heart was beating so rapidly he could feel it on the forearm he had pressed against her chest. In that moment he made a decision. Her body was warm, and it was getting him going. He needed this release. Right. Now. 

Bucky pulled his flesh hand away from her warm throat and flipped around, pressing her harshly to the metal wall. He pressed his front harshly to her back and she began to thrash violently. His hard-on was pressed to her ass and he held her waist so tight that she could feel her hips bruising. She tried to continue thrashing but he was bigger than her, and stronger. 

With his metal hand, he harshly tore her shorts down her legs and kicked her feet apart. She wanted to keep struggling but the panic had tightened her lungs and now all she could do was cry and shake, beg and plead. 

"Please, please don't do this! You don't have to do this!" She squealed at the end as she heard his pants hit the floor. His metal hand came up and pressed against her mouth, and she couldn't do anything but sob and continue struggling. 

She tried not to scream too loud when he thrust in, the pain making her bite her lip and more tears spilling on her cheeks. Her pelvis hit the wall with every thrust making her whimper loudly every few seconds. Small grunts and loud groans filled the area, and all she could do was try and cling to the wall. 

He pulled out and came on her back, pulling his metal hand away from her mouth and tucking himself back into his pants. Bucky pulled away from her and went back to laying on his cot, closing his eyes and letting the cold draft of the room cool his damp skin. 

She slid down the wall and curled up on the floor in a ball. Her bottom half was still bare and she had her tank top bunched up and shoved into her mouth to quiet her whimpers. It was finally quiet in the room. 

She didn't know how long it had been when the door opened and two trays were shoved in the room. They threw a fresh pair of shorts and a tank top at her and told her to change quickly. With shaky limbs, she pulled the tank top on and slid the one off underneath. They snatched the clothes from her and slammed the door shut. 

Bucky, who had moved into a sitting position when the keys had sounded in the lock, grabbed one of the trays and sat on the cot, scarfing it down with the glass of water that came with it. 

"Eat," he said in that same gruff tone. 

She didn't want to eat. Her appetite was gone after feeling so... violated, but her fear of disobeying him won out. Zaynah shuffled over to the tray and slowly pulled it back to her corner, spooning the rice and Russian broth into her mouth. She sipped the water slowly, trying to savour it; she didn't know how often they would get meals. He shoved the tray back to the door and lay on the cot again. 

She tried not to make any sounds and ate as quickly as she could. Her eyes drifted to his resting form every few seconds, to make sure he wouldn't come at her again. 

Once she was finished, she put her tray next to his and shoved herself in the corner once more. Her fingers played with the hem of her shirt and she tried to relax for just a second. There was no imminent threat to her and she closed her eyes, but the soft breaths of the man in front of her were distracting. Who was he? 


	2. Why Is She Helping Him?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why was Zaynah in Russia? What happens when he comes in injured?

She had come to Russia with simple plans. Zaynah wanted to sight-see, the Kremlin, the cathedrals in St. Petersburg and the museums filled with bejewelled eggs from a Czar who wanted to impress a past lover. She had plans to see the glass beach at Ussuri Bay and finally fulfil her dreams of travelling. It all started in Russia, she had thought. 

It had been getting late at night. She had to take the subway back to her hotel at ten at night because of her stupid idea to take pictures of St. Basil's Cathedral at night. There were two men in the same carriage as a her, fit but not bulging with muscle. She had tried not to look too uncomfortable, hoping to give them the benefit of the doubt. They were both dressed in similar black clothes but weren't even looking in her direction, at least she thought so. 

Then, at the stop before the one she needed to get off at before a five minute walk to her hotel, another man got on. He wore normal clothes, a pair of blue jeans and a plain white shirt. He looked Russian, but a softer kind, with blonde hair neatly done and slicked back with gel, and bright blue eyes. 

She found it odd that in a mostly empty carriage, he chose to sit next to her, but he shot her a small innocent looking smile. She returned it, looking out the window, feeling more relaxed than she had before. Then the sudden prick of a needle entering her neck had her jolting, and by the time she had turned to face the suddenly malicious looking man, her vision began to blur and she felt drowsy. Right before she dropped to the floor of the still rumbling subway car, the two men in black had begun walking toward her. 

"Do not worry princess," the blonde said in his thick Russian accent. "He will like you very much." Then she fell into a deep sleep. 

*****

Zaynah didn't know when she had dropped off, but when she woke up, there was a crick in almost every joint. She was about to stretch when everything came back to her, and the ache between her legs made her pause. She looked up, first spotting the empty shelf in the corner. His vest-thing was gone. Her gaze snapped to the cot. Empty. She slowly stood up, leaning most of her weight against the wall and beginning to stretch her limbs. Was it day? Was it night? She didn't know. 

As the adrenaline had now faded out of her system, she noticed things in the room she hadn't before. There was a sink right beside the small shelf in the corner, and it was very small. Where would she go to the bathroom? That was a worry for later, her bladder wasn't aching yet. 

There was a metal bowl with a wash cloth next to the sink on the floor. The wash cloth was pink from time, and she didn't want to know what else, but she had a pretty good guess. 

After she'd stretched, she stood for a little while. What was she supposed to do when he wasn't here? Zaynah didn't want to think about yesterday. What he had done. It felt like he broke her spirit, she felt so violated. With a shiver of disgust, she came back to her spot on the floor, sitting, waiting, trying not to grow insane too quickly. 

It had definitely been a few hours since she'd woken up when he walked back in. There was a mask over his mouth and the buckles on his vest clinked. His footsteps thudded with his heavy boots an, and he let out a small grunt every few seconds. The metal plates of his arm whirred as he clenched his fist before sighing. 

There was blood on his vest and she could see multiple cuts through the sliced up cloth on his upper back. He unclipped his mask and dropped onto his cot, a sigh leaving his lips as he ran a hand down his face. For a moment he sat there, staring at the opposite wall. She was watching him, her eyes staring at his face intently. He had this haunted look in his eyes, as if he was watching something horrifying over and over again without any way to make it stop. 

She wasn't hunched in the corner, sat almost loosely against the wall now. Her eyes were super-glued to on him as he unbuckled his vest and threw it on the shelf. She tried not to flinch but her body still convulsed and she pressed harder against the wall. 

He grunted as he stood again and walked over to the sink. It just barely reached his waist. His one-armed henley was torn at the right shoulder and a deep gash was seeping blood into the shirt. He bent down with another grunt and picked up the metal bowl with the wash cloth. He took out another small box from inside the bowl, which she hadn't seen earlier, and placed it on the cot with the cloth. 

She watched on as he filled the bowl with water then sat on the cot. Slowly, he tried to pull his shirt off but the pain from the deep cut was too much. With a loud groan he reached up and pulled it over his head. He dropped the torn mass onto the floor and let out a sigh as he reached down and brought the water to sit beside him. He reached for the washcloth with a huffed breath and dipped it into the water. He cleaned all the cuts. he could see and then began reaching back to try and reach the deep cut on his shoulder blade. 

Zaynah didn't do anything. She just watched him struggle to reach the cut. It was in an awkward place, too far to reach without tearing the cut even wider, and his other arm would hurt too much to be at the awkward angle needed to reach the cut. 

Zaynah didn't know what she was doing. Why was she beginning to stand up? With shaky legs, she started to walk over to him, head bowed low as she watched him through her lashes. He'd stopped trying to reach for the cut and was watching her slowly advance toward him. 

"What are you doing?" He asked quietly, his whole body tense and ready to strike.   
"Helping you," she replied just as quietly, her voice just barely above a whisper. 

She was stood right in front of him, knees ghosting against each other as she reached for his metal hand. He flinched slightly when she pulled the wet towel from his hand. He was looking up at her, her eyes concentrated as she picked up the bow and brought it to his right side. 

She was so warm. In the cold room she radiated warmth and it felt foreign. 

She touched his flesh arm, a breath getting caught in his throat at her warm palm flat against his broad upper arm. Was her hand warm because of the nervous way she clenched it between her thighs, or was she just naturally like this? 

He focused his eyes on a spot on the wall across from him, the spot she'd sat in before. He steeled himself. The cold, it was familiar, it was what kept him going, but it was so hard to remember the cold when her warm hands were splayed across the tight muscles of his back, almost caressing them. 

She cleaned around the cut, trying her hardest not to focus on the smooth skin under her hand. When she dabbed the cut softly and his skin tightened, she whispered a soft 'sorry.' He didn't reply but he softened his stance. Zaynah cleared her throat and dropped the cloth into the bowl of warm water with a small 'sploosh'. 

"Um, can you pass me the stitch-kit thing?" She asked, again in that soft voice of hers. He handed it to her and listened as she threaded the needle. "You don't have anything to numb the skin." She stated, finally looking at his face.   
"Just do it," he said, closing his eyes and breathing out. He'd felt worse pain. He had been shot, stabbed, tortured, put through enough pain to fill a hundred life times, and suddenly he couldn't handle a few stitches. 

She gulped before beginning to run the needle through the skin and trying not to shake too much. He closed his eyes and tried not to feel the burning sting. 

"I, um, I learned how to do stitches from the internet," she began, rambling in her nervousness. "It was actually kinda int-"   
"Shut up," he said through gritted teeth, trying not to move too much. She pressed her lips together and continued stitching, tying them off and washing the needle in the now pink water. 

She dropped it back in the box and placed some gauze on the stitches. She walked back to her corner, sitting down and training her eyes on him as he drained the water, washed the cloth and put everything back where it had been. 

*****

Zaynah had been awake the next time he'd been taken on a mission. They had knocked three times on the door and he had begun to suit up. Tying buckles and zipping zips. She watched him walk out the door, no words, no gesture, just leaving the room. She sighed, standing up and walking to the door. 

Did they speak English? Would they understand that she needed the bathroom? 

She knocked on the door and waited for them to open it. When the man who had dragged her in here the first time opened it and looked at her expectantly, she only had to say the word bathroom for him to begin dragging her out the door. He led her to another room and locked the door, waiting for her to finish. He dragged her back to the room and shoved her inside. 

She wasn't in the corner anymore. She had moved just slightly to the left so that she was almost parallel to the cot. 

He had walked in with a huffed breath, chest heaving as he pulled harshly at the buckles on his chest. Angrily, he tore the vest off and hurled it at the wall with the shelf. The loud crash had her flinching and bringing her arms up to cover her head. He sat with a loud and angry huff, trying not to scream. 

He had almost been compromised on the mission because of one dumb agent's mistake. He had managed to save himself at the last minute, but he was pissed. They'd left him out of cryo for now, but it would come soon enough, he knew. 

"Are you ok?" She asked quietly, sitting up straighter and looking at him. 

Why was she always talking? And looking at him in that innocent way through her lashes? He got up, stomping over to her and dragging her up by the tank top. It seemed too familiar, too scary. 

"Please stop! Please! You don't have to do this!" She began to plead, scream, try and get out of his hold, but his metal arm wouldn't budge. He had her back pressed to his front and she tried to thrash but he wasn't having it. His metal hand reached down and held her wrists together in front of her. He unbuckled his belt and used it to tie her hands together. 

She was sobbing, crying, trying not to be overpowered by him. He ripped her tank top over her head and down her arms, leaving it where it caught against her wrists. Her body shook with the intensity of her sobs and she was on the verge of giving up. He slipped out of his tank top and threw it to the ground, grabbing her hips and throwing her onto the cot. She cried out, elbows slipping against the thin mattress. He got up onto the cot and grabbed her hips, pulling her so that his pelvis was pressed against her as. 

She just cried silent tears, laying her upper body on the bed. He dragged her up by her hair, pressing her against his chest. His flesh hand ran from her neck down to her breasts. His metal hand replaced the other one, keeping her against his chest. Her own heaved as she tried to lessen the panic, but she couldn't do anything. 

His flesh hand ran down her side then back up, cupping her breast harshly. Her nipples were taut from the cold and his thumb flicking over it had her breath hitching. 

"No!" Why was her body betraying her like this?!

He did it again, listening to her breath hitch before doing it repeatedly. His hand clutched at her breast harshly before running down her stomach and cupping her pussy. Hard. The lips were slick and he rubbed back and forth, spreading it around as an involuntary whimper fell from her lips. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, gulping back her tears as he nudged at her clit. Her hips bucked and she whimpered. His breaths fanned over her neck heavily and his eyes were trained on the slick that webbed between his fingers and between her thighs. 

He shoved her down to the cot and grabbed her hips, bringing them up and grinding the massive bulge in his pants against her ass. She pressed her face into the thin pillow and felt it dampen with her tears. He shoved her shorts down and left his metal hand against her hip with a bruising grip. With his flesh hand he pushed his pants down and ripped her underwear from her body, a loud whimper being muffled by the pillow under her face. 

He shoved himself into her, a loud sound falling from her lips that had her crying even harder in shame. He kept bringing her hips back and grunting and groaning. The loud sound of skin slapping against skin echoed against the metal walls and had her whimpering. She bit into the pillow, her body shuddering as he thrust in one final time then pulled out, cumming on her back. 

He dropped onto the cot beside her, laying with half his back against the wall and the other half on the cot. She turned over onto her back, eyes closed and chest heaving. Her hands were still bound and were pressed to her chest. Her legs were closed so tight, her knees were beginning to hurt. 

He brought his gaze to her face. The brown skin was flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat that had her skin shining under the light. She had her eyes closed, clenched really, and it made him regret what he had done. 

Slowly, and with soft movements, he used his flesh hand to reach over to her wrists and pulled the belt from them. They were pink and raw, and the action had her turning her back to him. Her body quivered with her tears and she brought her knees up close to tuck herself into a ball on the cot. She'd already become much thinner from the two simple meals they were given what she was assuming was every day. 

He sat up, looking down to her legs and softly bringing her shorts up to rest gently against her hip bones. She sighed softly when his hand caressed her thigh softly as the cloth was brought up. Why was he being so gentle? He was clearly going through something considering that he was in the metal room with her, but was it as excuse to violate her like that? 

He turned onto his side and stared at her back. With hesitance, he brought his arm to rest over her waist and pulled her tight to his chest. He could feel her heart beating through her back, but he couldn't focus on that. Oh no, all he could think about was how warm she was. How soft she felt within his arms, and how the heat of her body passed onto him and made him feel warm for the first time in so very long. 

He closed his eyes and pressed his face into her hair. There was still a faint scent of vanilla that had him inhaling against his better judgement. After some moments he felt her relax in his arms and even snuggle further into him. He was warm to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long chapter :)


	3. What Should I Call You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get to talking.

The next time he left, she woke up as he was leaving. The blanket was tucked into her sides and kept her as warm as the thin cloth could. He had begun to buckle his vest as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. 

"Sleep, moya detka," he whispered, looking to her as the blanket dropped to her lap. 

It was like everything had changed since the night before. There was a new feeling in the air, a new charge which changed their relationship entirely. A new care, which had her stitching his wounds and had him holding her close in the coat. 

She got up, walking over to him and carefully pushing his hands away. He had already gotten halfway done, and now he just stood there, hands by his sides as she buckled his tactical vest for him. 

A thought had occurred to her. He was the only one she had left. He might be mysterious, and closed off, but he was all she had. Maybe it was time to get to know him. Maybe even share some of herself with him. 

As she finished the last buckle, she looked up at him with soft eyes and almost cried. He looked... scared. Like he'd never felt a caring touch, or had someone look at him with such a gentle gaze. She softly reached her hand up to cup his cheek, his breath hitching, eyes closing and a gulp moving his throat. Her palm was soft. His cheek was warm. 

"My name is Zaynah," she said, looking at him with that gentle gaze that had his heart clenching when he opened his eyes.   
"Zaynah," he whispered, and she knew instantly that was her favourite sound. 

She already had an inkling that what he did was very dangerous. The stitches had proved that, but he was all she had left now. 

"Come back," she whispered, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his chest.   
He wrapped his arms around her for a moment before whispering, "I will always come back to you." Then he was out the door, leaving her standing in the middle of the room. 

*****

They had dragged her out of the room and thrown her into what seemed to be a shower room. They told her to strip, and that she had five minutes of water. She rubbed everywhere, cleaned herself as best as she could, because when would she get a chance like this again? 

She wrung out her hair as tight as she could and dried herself with the thin towel they had thrown at her. With hair still dripping very slightly, and a new tank top and a pair of shorts, she was shoved back into the room. 

He came in only a little while later. There was a little blood on his vest but it wasn't his. A small scratch on the tip of his nose was bright red and had him itching at it occasionally. She got up quickly and looked up into his eyes, a blue storm. 

He walked closer to her, watching as she ran her eyes down to his vest. Slow soft hands began unbuckling the vest as his own came up to rest on her hips. 

This felt so comforting, like they were both covered in a safety blanket. One night of cuddling and care had suddenly changed their dynamic. His thumbs ran back and forth over the exposed skin between her top and shorts. 

"They let me have a shower today," she said. She was a nervous talker, he realised. A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. 

Zaynah smiled at his chest, his smile only made him handsomer. She finished the buckles and helped him slip it off. He walked over to the shelf and placed it down gently. He didn't want her getting scared again. 

She went and sat on the cot in her previous position, back against the wall and legs brought up to her chest. He came and sat beside her, head hitting the wall with a small thud. 

"What do I call you? Do you have a name?" She asked, turning to look at him as she rested the side of her head on her knees.   
"I don't have a name," he mumbled, turning to look at her as well. His bright blue eyes were piercing, and had her blinking away from his gaze.   
"Is there something I can call you then?" She asked softly, scooting closer to him. He was warm, and it was attracting in this cold room. He was happy she moved closer, her warmth was comforting in the cold room.   
"They call me soldat, it's soldier in Russian," he told her, shifting slightly to get closer to her addicting body heat.   
"I don't want to call you the same thing they call you," she said with. a frown, her lip pouting slightly. He smiled again. 

It felt weird, he hadn't smiled in so long. Bucky brought his thumb up to her bottom lip and rubbed it softly. It was plump, and pink, and had him wanting to bite it. She smiled softly and turned pink with a blush, eyes moving down to look at his arm. 

"Hm, oh! I had a friend who taught me some words in Russian, how about 'Milashka?" He chuckled a little. That was his first laugh since... he couldn't remember. "What? Why are you lughing at me?" She looked confused and he moved his hand to cup her cheek softly.  
"That's not how you say it. Mi-Lash-Ka," he said slowly, concentrating on her lips and bringing his thumb to move her bottom lip up and down.   
"Mi-Lash-Ka," she said in the same tone as him. He nodded and continued stroking her bottom lip as she smiled. "What does it mean?"  
"Cutie," he said to her, looking straight into her eyes. 

They both shuffled so much closer that she had her arms wrapped around his waist and his right arm was wrapped around her shoulders. His breath fanned over her head and she had her face pressed into his chest. He had such a specific smell, like it was just his very own scent. 

"Milashka," she whispered into his chest, hugging him tighter. He shifted and lay down on the bed, pulling her to lay on top of him as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She moved up to press her face into his neck as he did the same to her. They lay in silence, hugging each other close and falling asleep after a while. Being held captive was bad, so very bad, but at least they had each other. They would always have each other. 

*****

She woke up with him, moving off him to grab his vest and bringing it over to him. Zaynah was blinking the sleep from her eyes and helped him slip it on. She buckled it up with a small yawn which had him smiling. He brought his hands up to cup her face and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She opened her eyes afterward and brought him into a hug, ignoring the buckles digging into her chest. 

"Come back," she whispered, hugging him a little harder. He rubbed her back slowly and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.   
"I will always come back to you," he said to her, taking a sniff of her hair before pulling away and leaving. 

She went back to the cot and lay down, pulling the thin blanket up to her chin. His smile was ingrained into her brain. It was beautiful and lit up his eyes. His pink lips curved upwards and his whole body relaxed. Everything about it was so amazing and... beautiful. His chuckle played in her ears and he had her smiling. It was a soft sound that sounded like it was pulling the air from his lungs. It was contagious. Everything about him was graceful. 


	4. Books and a Memory Wipe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky explains what happens to his memory and other stuff happens.

They were laying together on the cot, her back pressed to his chest and his arm wrapped around her waist. His fingers were running up and down her stomach slowly, and soft fluttery breaths ran over her neck. 

"I liked to read a lot, before... you know," she told him, her gaze focused on the wall opposite the cot. This was how they spent their time, wrapped around each other and her occasionally telling him about herself. "I had at least three full bookshelves in every room of the house," she said with a soft smile, remembering the excitement she felt every time she got a new book. 

Bucky hummed against her neck, very content with the position he was in for the first time in forever. Zaynah had a secret theory that he loved hugging her. He seemed so touch starved and he always seemed reluctant to let her go after he had start touching her. It made her smile and she made it her mission to touch him as much as she could, though she was already doing that. 

He pulled her closer, wanting to have her warmth as close as possible. He craved it. Bucky craved the warmth she emitted, the soft heat that had him feeling almost whole. 

Their small conversations had him falling for her even harder. She told him all about herself, and in-turn he would venture what little he knew about himself. 

"I have to tell you this, moya detka," he said, tone suddenly turning serious as a thought popped into his head. He sat up and pulled her up with him. The smile dropped from her lips and she crossed her legs as she faced him. He'd taken to calling her moya detka and she found it endearing. "They do... something to me. It hurts, a lot, and it takes my memories away." Her breath fell from her chest and worry filled her heart. What did they do to him? Was that why he was like this?  
"If I forget you, don't hate me. You are all have left." He looked close to tears and he was holding her arms so tight she was sure there would be bruises. 

She had tears filling her eyes and she pressed herself closer to him. He cupped her cheeks and made her look him in the eyes. "Promise me. Promise me you won't hate me," he said, a tremble in his voice, an intensity in his voice that had her shivering.   
"I could never hate you, I-I love you," she whispered, eyes moving away from his gaze again. His thumb pulled her bottom lip from between her teeth. She looked back to his face and he had a small smile on his lips.   
"I love you too," he whispered, leaning over and pressing his lips to hers. 

It was a perfect first kiss, soft and sweet. He had pulled her close to him and she was straddling his legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her even closer, laying her down on the bed. Her head rested against the pillow as he pulled away from the kiss, looking her in the eyes for a split second before trailing his kisses down her neck. Her breaths were shallow and trembling, hands pulling at the thin shirt he was wearing. He slipped it over his head before taking a quick inhale and sitting back up. His shirt went back on and he closed his eyes. 

Zaynah sat up, pushing her top down and blushing. 

"Are you ok?" She asked softly, looking up at him through her lashes. 

Bucky felt insecure. He didn't want her to see the scars. They made him feel... ugly, horrifying. She grabbed his hand and rubbed over the knuckles softly. "You can tell me, you know?"  
"I... don't want you to see the scars," he said quietly, looking down to his hands. She smiled softly and leaned over to press her lips against his.   
"You know you're the most beautiful person I have ever seen? Your scars will only make you more beautiful in my eyes. You don't have to show me if you don't want to," she finished softly, looking into his eyes with such intense sincerity that his only reply was to passionately press his lips to hers. She let out a small moan and pulled him closer.

They spent as long as they could loving each other, hugging, kissing, caressing. 

She snuggled closer to his warm chest, kissing at the skin as he sighed. 

"I love you moya detka," he whispered into her ear, pressing a kiss to the shell and snuggling closer to him.   
"I love you milashka," she said back, resting her head against his chest. 

*****

It had been too long. He had gone for his mission and he still wasn't back. It had been many hours, she knew because in the time they had given her two meals. Surely if he was dead they would have killed her by now? Right? 

She waited and waited. He still didn't arrive. Zaynah paced the small room, back and forth several times. She knocked angrily on the door, chest heaving as she thought about what they were doing to him. They opened the door and looked in, a new soldier was staring at her, though she couldn't care less. 

"Where is he?" She asked angrily, stepping right up to the door jamb and staring up into his eyes with a fierce fire.   
"Go back in the room," he said monotonously, waiting for her to step back so he could close the door.   
"No! Tell me where he is!" She screamed, beginning to walk forward, but he only pushed her back into the room and slammed the door shut. "Agh!" She screamed and kicked at the door, grunting and cursing in pain afterward. 

Zaynah lay on the bed and tried to sleep, but her worry for him was clouding her mind. She waited through two more meals when finally the door opened and Bucky walked in. Zaynah hurried got up and ran toward him but stopped a few inches from him. 

"Milashka?" She whispered, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.   
"Who are you?" He asked, a pang hitting her heart as she tried off her tears.   
"It's me, Zaynah," she began, inching closer to him. He remembered that name. It was so familiar. "You call me moya detka."

Now they were standing so close he could feel the heat radiating from her. It was so... comforting. She leaned up and softly pressed their lips together, effectively ending his confusion. 

They pulled away for air and he reached up to stroke her cheek. 

"Moya detka," he whispered, bringing her to his lips once more. She nodded against his face, a small sob spilling from her lips. "Sh, sh, no crying," he whispered, hugging her tighter, trying to just pull her within him so he could keep her safe and warm with him at all times. 

She pulled away from the kiss and wiped her tears away. A small smile pulled at her lips and she dragged him to the cot, unbuckling his vest as quickly as humanly possible. He was pushed onto the bed and she straddled his lap, bringing him in for another kiss before pulling his shirt over his head. Zaynah looked into his eyes before bending down and pressing kisses to the red scars littering the area where his metal arm joined his shoulder. His breath caught in his throat and his whole body was tense for a few seconds. She kissed them so tenderly, with such love and care that a tear slipped from his eyes. He closed his eyes and let out a small shaky breath, just sitting there and feeling everything. Every kiss, every caress, every small breath that brushed over his skin. Everything. 

This became a ritual. Every time he came back from a mission, she called him milashka, and if he remembered he'd reply with moya detka. 

There were a few times when he came back from cryo and didn't remember her. All she had to do was kiss him and they would fall onto the cot and make love. They didn't know if he would ever come back from a mission, and he spent all his time with her. 

Sometimes they would try to have fun. She'd teach him whatever games she knew or they'd try weird and funny hairstyles on each other's heads. The occasional laugh would echo inside the room and they'd be eternally grateful that they had each other. 

Other times would be somber. He'd tell her about the things he had done, crying sometimes and just becoming completely silent in others. 

She would be there to comfort him. She'd hug him, kiss him, tell him that she didn't think he was a monster. Zaynah couldn't believe the horrible things they made him do, this-this Hydra. He had been torn, broken down to a point where he would never be completely whole again. 

She'd tell him about her old life sometimes to distract him. When he would go completely silent, eyes haunted and nightmares overflowing in his head. Zaynah would start talking softly, telling him about her nieces and nephews, her old job, her favourite book, anything simple to just get his mind away from what was going on at the moment. It always worked, bringing him back to her with a small kiss. 

*****

She was straining to hear his footsteps, where was he? Zaynah missed Bucky, and she really didn't want to think about about him going back into that crying or whatever. 

His footsteps thumped down the hall and she heard the key jingling in the lock. Zaynah shot up and watched as the door opened and he walked in. First her eyes ran over his face, making sure there were no cuts or anything. Then she looked down and saw the stack of books he was carrying. It was piled up to his chest and he had a sheepish look on his face. 

"I asked them to let you have a few books," he said softly, looking to her with scared eyes. Would she like it? This was the first time he'd been worried about someone else's opinion. His insecurity scared him. He didn't like it.   
"That's... the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," she said, running at him and pressing a fierce kiss to his lips. He almost dropped the books and kissed her back, sighing as a smile pulled at his lips. n

She pulled away and smiled brightly at him. He walked over to the cot and sat down, dropping the books to the floor with a loud thud. 

Zaynah climbed onto his lap and pressed kisses all over his face. It had been a year since they were trapped together, and their love was very strong. She pulled away from his lips and turned around, grabbing a few books from the top of the stack and reading the spines. 

"There was a huge library at the target's house, and I asked if I could bring a few back for you. They told me it was ok," he told her softly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close to his chest. She smiled and kissed his neck, pressing her forehead against the warm skin.   
"I love you milashka," she whispered, kissing his collar bone and just inhaling him. He smiled and wrapped his arms just a little tighter around him.  
"I love you moya detka," he kissed her hair and rubbed her arm. 

She pulled away slowly and pushed him to lay down. She lay in his arms and cracked open the first book, beginning to read to him. Her soft voice made him snuggle deeper into her neck and press soft kisses against the skin there. They spent all their time together reading and loving each other, finally reaching a level of happiness where the room didn't seem so mall anymore. It didn't matter what they were reading, or how loud it was. All that mattered was the words flowing off the page in either one of their voices. Deep and gruff, soft and light, with occasional kisses. They could be anywhere in the world with their books, but what mattered is that they were together. 


	5. The Man on The Bridge... He Knew Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Soldier has a close encounter with someone from his past. Zaynah urges him to leave and find him.

She was reading one of the books he got her when he came in distraught. They'd told him to wait a little while so they could fix the machine. They were gonna wipe him again. 

"His name was- the man on the bride, he-he knew m." He looked so confused and vulnerable, like a lost child.   
"Milashka?" She asked softly, looking him in the eyes, but it was as if he couldn't see her.   
"He knew me," he whispered again, stumbling into the room. She caught his shoulders and made him look her in the eye.   
"Milashka," she said firmly, grabbing his cheeks and making him come closer to her. She pressed her lips to his firmly, kissing him harder to make him reply. After a moment he kissed her back, cupping her neck and bringing her body tight against his. 

Zaynah pulled away and looked into his eyes, worry clear in her own. 

"There was a man on-on the bridge, and I was fighting him. He called me Bucky, I-I think I remember him. He knew me." Bucky looked her in the eyes and could see the surprise in them.   
"You-you have to find him," she said after a moment, nodding her head as she bit her lip so hard it turned red. He reached up and pulled it away.   
"I am not leaving you behind moya detka," he said, pulling her head to lay on his chest.   
"No, you need to go, you've been here, in so much pain, for so long," she said, pulling away to stand in front of him with pain in her eyes. 

A loud knock on the door and a command barked in Russian had him sighing. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard. He continued kissing her till both of their lungs were burning and the soldiers were knocking on the door again. 

She didn't want to let him go, and the way he pulled back truly showed his reluctance. 

"Moya detka, I love you," he said, kissing her again and again.   
"I love you milashka, I love you," she said between kisses, moving with him toward the door.   
"I will love you forever, remember that ok? I will always come back to you," he said hurriedly, looking her in the eyes and moving backward slowly.   
"You will always come back to me," she repeated, nodding at him and kissing him again before letting him walk out the door. 

She sat on the cot, waiting for him to return. She pulled another book from the stack, beginning to read and waste away her days. 

*****

He hadn't come back. It had been so long since she had seen him. She was hoping it was because he got away, because they wouldn't tell her anything.

It had been a year, though she didn't know that. She read and reread the books he'd gotten her, to the point where she could recite them word for word. 

They came storming into the room and one of the large Russian brutes began dragging her out of the room. She struggled and screamed, kicking and scratching, throwing punches, but it was no use. They were all bigger than her, and soon she had been dragged into a room that looked like a lab. They shoved her onto a table and belted her to it, wrapping them so tight that she thought her blood circulation might have been cut off. 

A man in a lab coat walked up to her with a syringe in his hands. She was frozen and tense with fear, and he walked over with what was supposed to be a comforting smile. 

The liquid in the syringe was red, but not thick like blood. It was thin and almost looked like red smoke. It reminded her of the time she had seen Scarlet Witch's powers on the news. 

"You have seen that Wanda on the news, no?" Began a thick Russian accent, one of the soldiers she hadn't noticed before. "We hope you enjoy," he said sarcastically, a few of the soldiers chuckling as she tried not to cry. 

The scientist came over with the syringe and she began begging. 

"Please don't do this! PLEASE!" She was screaming by the end but thrashing was no use either, the belts were too tight. 

He injected whatever serum it was into her arm and watched her. Nothing happened for all of one second, then the burning started. 

It hit her quick and hard, every vein in her body burning so painfully that all she could do was scream. Her throat felt like it was torn apart and no sound came out anymore.

All her veins glowed blue, shining under the skin. Her eyes were screwed shut and she began panting as the burn slowly ebbed away. Her veins slowly began fading till they only began glowing occasionally. The soldiers began talking to each other, but she was too tired to be able to try and listen. 

They unbuckled her but she instantly began to fall, already passed out from fatigue. When she woke up in the cold room, she could feel there was something different in the atmosphere. Her gaze fell to her arms and she almost started screaming again. Every little while every single one of her veins glowed as if the lights were slowly throbbing on and off. She held up her shaky hands and watched as the blue smoke danced over her fingertips. It was coloured electric blue and had her hyperventilating. Did she have super powers now? What the hell was going on? She calmed her breathing and lay back on the bed, trying not to freak out, but failing miserably. 

*****

It had been another year of sitting in the cold room, and now she'd gone almost stir crazy. She clutched his favourite book to her chest as she sat on the cot. Zaynah had gotten used to the glowing and even took comfort in the blue smoke that danced on her fingertips. Zaynah had even begun learning to control it. She could make it move as far up as her wrist before letting it die out. She closed her eyes and clutched the book tighter. 

Suddenly, she heard fighting noises outside. There was gun fire and shouting in both English and Russian. In fear, she pushed herself right to the farthest end of the cot and clutched the book to her chest. Her knees pressed it even harder against her chest and she let her head fall against her knees. Her eyes were clenched shut and she whispered to herself as the fighting sounds got closer. 

"Milashka will come back to me, milashka will always come back to me," she kept whispering, believing her words wholeheartedly. 

Suddenly the door slammed open so loudly that she jumped and kept saying her words loudly. 

"Milashka will come back to me, milashka will always come back to me." Her body shook in fear and she tried her hardest not to start crying. 

"Moya detka," a whisper filled the air in a voice she hadn't heard in two years. 


	6. Rescue Operation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky comes back to rescue his girl.

Her eyes opened slowly as her breaths became shallow. She couldn't believe it, no. He was back, he was back for her. He came back for her, just like he said he would. 

Her eyes landed on him, tactical vest and all. His hair was just the littlest bit longer and he had an almost fresh look in his eyes. She couldn't believe it. 

A loud sob left her lips and she slowly unfurled herself. Zaynah couldn't even see the glowing of her veins, all she could see was her milashka. 

"Moya detka," he whispered again, moving closer to her. She launched off the cot, tears running down her cheeks as she hugged him so tight. He caught her, stumbling back a little as as silent tears ran down his cheeks. She was really there. She was really in his arms. His Zaynah. 

Her pressed her face into his neck as he kept her body pressed to his. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and they were immersed in each other. He pressed his face against her hair, inhaling just her. 

He couldn't believe how much thinner she was since the time they had met. He rubbed her hair with his flesh hand continuously pressed kisses to her head. She was there. She was really there. He had lost memories, and confusion for the past two years, but she was real. She was still real, and his. 

"Bucky, we gotta go," a voice said from the door. She looked up to see Captain America, but she was too wrapped up in Bucky to care. 

Bucky began carrying her out, brushing Steve's questioning look away as he focused on the girl clutching tight to him. He whispered "moya detka" to her occasionally, just trying to make sure she was still with him. She always nodded, head pressed to his shoulder as he carried her all the way to the quinjet. 

Bucky sat down on the bench on one side of the jet, rubbing his hand up and down her back. 

"Hey, did you find her in there? Let me take her to the Med Bay," Zaynah had pulled away from his chest and looked away to his face. When she head foot steps, she turned around and saw a man in a lab coat. Her whole body tensed and her veins began to glow blue. Bucky watched her with wide eyes, finger running over the blue veins glowing in the back of her neck. 

The man, who Bucky knew was Bruce, walked closer to them. Zaynah could only remember the burning pain her veins and the soldiers bruising grip on her arms. 

"No! Not again! Please! No! I haven't done anything! Please! It burns so much! Don't do it again!" Bucky's heart clenched as the girl in his arms closed her eyes and began squirming in his grip. The rest of the team had come onto the jet by now and were watching the scene. 

Bruce had backed away but the girl was still screaming. Her body shook with sobs and whimpers and her veins began to glow even brighter, so eye catching that no one could look away. There was blue smoke like energy running over her hands. It looked scarily like Wanda's, yet somehow different. 

"Moya detka," Bucky said, trying to get her attention, but she was already too agitated. Bruce came back and jabbed her in the arm with a sedative. She dropped into Bucky's arms, dead to the world. 

"What's going on Buck?" Steve asked, walking over as Banner placed the girl on a gurney and pushed her into the Med Bay. Bucky ran a hand down his face as he sighed.   
"She's my world, my everything," Bucky said, watching her lay on the medical bed. Bucky told Steve the story beginning to end. "But I left after that mission, and-and she was stuck there. I don't know what they did to her Steve, I don't- I can't-" Bucky let out a sigh and a growl. "I just need her to be ok." Steve nodded and patted Bucky on the back, sitting there with his friend as they watched Bruce check her out. 

Bucky was standing beside Bruce as he checked her out on the lab table back at the tower. Her hair was splayed around her head and she looked beautiful to him. Her veins glowed and faded only to glow again, and Bruce was doing a body scan to try and figure out why. 

"Whoah," Bruce's eyes widened s he read the hologram F.R.I.D.A.Y. had displayed for him.   
"Whoah what?" Steve asked as he walked in, stealing the words straight from Bucky's mouth. Bruce fiddled with the hologram as both men waited for the news impatiently. 

Steve handed Bucky a cup of coffee and smiled back at the appreciative look on his face. 

"So Tony sent me her background check," Bruce shot the hologram of her passport, ID, and social media into the air and Steve began sifting through it. "But that's not the most interesting part," Bucky perked up and walked back over, smiling softly at a picture of her laughing at the camera with a bunch of friends. "The body scan shows that she had the mutant gene, but it was dormant. Hydra injected her with myhetium x, and it must have activated the gene. But this gene is-is, it's strong, it's very strong." Bruce was rubbing his chin and going through the hologram.   
"How strong are we talking?" Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest.   
"You know how Wanda can destroy skyscrapers with her powers?" Bruce asked, looking away from the hologram. Bucky and Steve nodded at Bruce, brows furrowed and arms crossed over their chests. "Well, if Zaynah chooses, she could literally destroy whole continents with a snap of her fingers." Bruce ended, looking up at the two shocked super-soldiers.   
"So, basically," Steve began slowly, "she's the most powerful, and lethal, person on the planet," Steve finished with a nod.

Bucky frowned and uncrossed his arms as he stood near her. His hand ran over her forehead and caressed her cheek softly. 

"She isn't lethal at all, Steve. She's the sweetest person on Earth. Zaynah told me about how she cries over the deaths of book characters, and I've seen it happen. She almost started crying at the memory of a helpless baby bird. She has rescue dogs and volunteers at homeless shelters AND orphanages." Bucky was looking at them both fiercely. "I-I think that she'd join us, if-if she got the training," Bucky said, looking back to her.   
"We'll see Buck, let her wake up first, see her family again. She was missing for three years, Tony's bringing her some of her family to the tower." Bucky nodded at Steve's words and watched as they took her to a private room, going to sit beside her. 

*****

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked around the room. Bucky was asleep in a chair next to her bed. He was there. She slowly slid out of the bed, hospital gown swishing around her knees. Why was there a gown like that? She wasn't in a hospital, she could clearly tell. 

Zaynah quietly opened the door, wanting to take a look around. She wasn't in captivity anymore, she at least knew that much. 

As she walked down the hall, a door opened about a foot away from her and had her jumping back. The blue smoke tingled on her fingertips and she could feel her veins begin to brighten. A large blonde stepped out into the hall way and looked at her. Captain America. Was this the right time to be freaking out? 

The smoke left and her veins faded as a sigh fell from her lips. 

"Zaynah, it's nice to meet you," he began, thrusting hand out for a shake but it only made her flinch, blue tendrils crawling up her arms.   
"Sorry, I just- I'm not used to new people," she replied, looking to the floor.   
"It's ok, Bucky told me about what happened."  
"His name is Bucky?" She asked softly, a smile beginning to creep up her face.   
"His name is James Buchanan Barnes, but we all call him Bucky," Steve explained, smiling at her. She looked almost giddy and the colour was already returning to her complexion.   
"Bucky," she whispered, smiling up at the tall man.   
"You wanna get breakfast and talk? I have a lot of explaining to do," Steve asked, looking at her expectantly. She hesitantly nodded and followed him. "There's a lot to say before your family arrives." 


	7. The End and a Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our characters find their happily ever after.

"My family's coming?" She asked softly, eyes widening as tears of relief began filling her eyes.   
"Yeah, Stark's flying them out here to see you," Steve said with a smile, wrapping his arms around her as she hugged him.   
"Thank you, thank you so much, you guys saved my life," she whispered, pulling away and chuckling as she wiped her tears off her cheeks. "I need to stop crying."  
"To be fair, you have an excuse, you were just released from captivity," Steve told her, continuing toward the kitchen. He sat her at one of the bar stools around the kitchen island.   
"That makes me sound like one of those penguins that they rescue then release back in the wild," Zaynah said, a smile on her face as she watched Steve laugh. His hands came up to his chest and the laughs bellowed out of him. 

Footsteps came from behind them, and Zaynah turned to see Bucky walk into the kitchen. He stepped closer to her and looked between Steve and her, before sitting on a stool beside her. His hand came to rest on her thigh and she silently placed her hand on his, clasping her small fingers around it and rubbing back and forth over his knuckles with her thumb. She smiled at him and scooched over toward him, wanting to feel his warmth again. 

He pulled her onto his lap and hugged her close, pressing his face into her neck. She signed and snuggled closer to him, feeling Steve's eyes on them. 

"I missed you," she whispered, lips moving against the skin of his neck where she pressed her face. "James," she finished after a second, the name whispered softly. Bucky shivered and slightly pulled away, looking to her with a smile.   
"Steve told you?"   
"Just your name, Bucky," she said with a smile, kissing him gently. Bucky kissed her back and they stopped when a cough was heard. They pulled away and realised that they weren't used to people being around them. 

Steve sat two plates in front of them before going around to the other side with his own. 

"So, Zaynah, you've been missing for three years," Steve began, Zaynah nodding as she continued eating. "But there's more important matters at hand. Did you know you had the mutant gene?" Steve asked, putting his cutlery down. Her eyes widened and she looked at Steve and Bucky.   
"What?" She asked incredulously, cutlery dropping to the table.   
"Banner did a body scan and it showed that you had the mutant gene but it was dormant. The substance Hydra injected you with activated it," Steve finished, looking to her arms as her veins began to glow again.

Nervously, she brought her arms under the table, insecure about the glowing, but it didn't help. Her neck, face, and eyes glowed slightly and she closed her eyes. Bucky rubbed his hand up her forearm slowly, trying to comfort her. 

"So you're saying that smoky stuff on my hands," she raised her right hand and let it travel up her wrist, "is energy? Like I have super powers?" She questioned.   
"You know Wanda?" Steve asked, picking up his fork and continuing to eat. She nodded and looked down to her hands as she got the energy back. "Like her powers, but Bruce says you're much more powerful." 

Zaynah nodded and rubbed at her veins as they began glowing again. 

"But I can just barely make the smoke move," she said, lifting her hand again.   
"That's actually because of Hydra. They put a pill in your food that suppresses your powers. It should begin to wear off soon enough," Steve told her, watching Bucky clench his jaw and hold onto her hand atop the table.   
"Ok, so, what do I do? I don't want to hurt anyone-"   
"You won't," Bucky interrupted.   
"I'm gonna end up hurting someone, I don't want to hurt people. I-I try and hep people! I volunteer and raise awareness and-and! Oh my god! I have superpowers. What the fuck. I mean, I wanted them as a kid, who doesn't? But what the fuck." She was freaking out again, breath heaving as she stood up and began to pace. "This feels like when they took you away..." she hyperventilated.   
"Calm down! Hey, moya detka, look at me," Bucky grabbed her shoulders and made her look him in the eyes. "You are a good person, who has nothing to worry about ok? You can learn to control it, I know you can. We can help you," Bucky said, rubbing her arms as she began to nod. Her veins began to glow again and the smoke was running up her arm.   
"When did you say the suppressants were wearing off?" Bucky asked, stepping way. 

She was glowing brighter now, so eye-catching as every vein lit up. 

"Bucky, its- I'm trying," she closed her eyes and the glowing calmed down, smoke coming to rest in her hands like a ball of energy. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath, staring at the energy in her hand. Both men watched as she played with it in her hands. The energy ran over her hands wherever she wanted and had her mesmerised.   
"I-I can control it," she whispered into the still air, letting it lift in the air and fall in the shape of snowflakes. 

The boys watched as she giggled, their eyes wide and mouths open. Zaynah smiled at Bucky and clenched her fist. Her veins stopped glowing and she let out a sigh, suddenly fatigued and about to faint. 

"you're malnourished," Bucky said, dragging her to sit on the stool and beginning to spoon feed her.   
"Mr. Rogers, Ms. Marsh's family has arrived. I'm not sure you want Mr. Stark with them alone for too long," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, Steve thanking her before nodding to Bucky. 

She was sat up now, gulping down a cup of water to regain her strength. 

"Slow down, they're not going anywhere," Bucky said softly.   
"I thought that the last time, but then Russia happened," she replied, standing shakily to try and get her to her family. 

Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist, helping her over to the door. Soon they reached the hall and she began to cry. 

"Mama!" She stumbled over and hugged her whole family, loud sobs and hysterical shrieks falling from everyone.

Zaynah hugged everyone, tears falling from her eyes rapidly. Everything went great, though they did question the glowing 

Prologue

Zaynah ended up joining the Avengers, going through all the training and learning how to control her powers. She became a vital part of the team and saved everyone many times. Everyone loved her and even thought the glowing was endearing. 

Bucky and Zaynah ended up getting married and had a daughter. Their love grew and bloomed and it was absolutely beautiful. 


End file.
